


I'll Cover You

by Whatthef0ucault



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: 2020-2021 NHL Season, Boston Bruins, Bruises, Florida Panthers, Fluff, Former Bruins, Hockey Fights, Hurt/Comfort, Locker Room, M/M, Protective!Frank, Vacciari Rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29296479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whatthef0ucault/pseuds/Whatthef0ucault
Summary: Frank saw red. Frank saw red and tan hit the ice. Frank saw red and tan and ‘55’ curled and unable to get up. And then Frank saw white.or02/07/21 FLA vs DET: 30 seconds left in the 2nd period of an unlucky game, Acciari takes an unlucky shot block, and takes a little too long to get up. Vatrano goes after two Wings at once.
Relationships: Noel Acciari/Frank Vatrano
Comments: 12
Kudos: 22





	I'll Cover You

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I couldn't just watch [Frank try to fight two dudes at once for Noel](https://letsbakethatcake.tumblr.com/post/642600060043083776/feb-7th-2021-det-fla-noel-acciari-takes-a) when he hardly ever fights and NOT put something out there. Thanks for viewing! I'm also working on a long fic with these two atm from their days on the Bruins. You can catch me on [tumblr](https://www.letsbakethatcake.tumblr.com/) if you'd like.
> 
> Yes, the title is taken from the song from Rent, but fear not, this shouldn't make you ugly cry like that.

Frank saw red. Frank saw red and tan hit the ice. Frank saw red and tan and ‘55’ curled and unable to get up. And then Frank saw white.

It wasn’t the instant fury that Frank couldn’t control. The passionate man was used to having to keep a lock on his emotions by this point in his life. No, it was the motherfucking Wings players' ‘Only shot they’ve been able to block all night’ and ‘And he went down like a pussy’ bullshit on top of it that had Frank throwing his gloves with nothing more than a simple “That’s it”.

Frank’s hands only grasped fistfuls of a white jersey for the briefest moment in time, and turned and reached for another, entirely unsatisfied with his hunger to sink them into both of the dudes' faces. His mouth ran away with him when more than one pair of hands held him back, a series of expletives that probably didn’t make a whole lot of sense outside of his small, Western Massachusetts hometown.

His helmet came off among the fray, somehow. Fitting, really.

Then, Frank was in the box, fuming and simmering. Frank was in the box and watching Noel finally making his way off the ice and down the tunnel. Then and only then did he start to take a steady breath.

“What the hell, Kid?”

Frank looked up from the general spot on the floor he’d been staring at while walking into the locker room. A smiling, half toothless Noel greeted him, looking as fond and exasperated as ever.

A little grin pulled at the corner of Frank’s lips and his dark eyes, and he simply shrugged in response.

Their stalls being next to each other, at the end of the busy locker room, had absolutely nothing at all to do with the little looks they liked to share when everyone else was looking elsewhere.

“This is why Q never puts us on a line together, yanno.”

Frank’s smile widened against his will as he sat down next to Noel. Pride swelled in his heart, right next to the way it still tended to skip a little when the older man would look at him _like that_. They knew each other so well at this point— coming up together in Boston and Providence felt so long ago and like it was yesterday all at once when Frank had first found himself looking back twice, maybe three times at those green eyes.

“This?” Frank asked, raising an eyebrow while voluntarily rising to Noel’s bait in the same time. He motioned a finger between both of them. “Oh yeah, my solid record of a big fat zero compared to your…”

Noel chuckled while Frank pretended to struggle with his counting of Noel’s multiple fights to date.

“...Oh yeah, 574 or so?” Frank finished his thought, a smirk gracing his lips. “It’s totally _me_.”

“Don’t know if I ever took on two at once, though.”

Frank shrugged, ignoring the fact that no one actually let him fight in the first place, and instead graced the Rhode Island native with a playful look. “Go big or go home, Acciari.”

“Well, I’m just glad you understand where I’m coming from,” Noel’s lips twitched in amusement, the self-deprecating sarcasm dripping from his words.

Frank toweled the last of the rare, testosterone laced sweat off his neck and through his hair. Reaching for the back, he noticed the ice pack pressed into Noel’s higher inner thigh where he had taken the shot attempt that took him out in the last thirty seconds of the 2nd. Frank cringed, his nose scrunching with it.

“God, that was a close one,” Frank joked, his tone already softening before he followed up with his more concerned, “You okay? How bad is it?”

Noel nodded earnestly at Frank, working out his thigh muscle by bending his leg out straight and letting it relax repeatedly. He held up his finger and thumb for Frank in an attempt to gauge the sizable welt.

“Way, way too close. Eh...about this big so far? But I’ll be fine.”

The way Frank’s fingers brushed over the back of Noel’s hand on the seat, in that hidden space between their legs, must have done something to pull the gentle sigh that came out of the older next.

Frank couldn’t help it. He was worried, dammit, and he wasn’t going to take a bullshit locker room answer.

“...You never go down like that.”

Frank was showing the worry he couldn’t hide from his face to the floor instead of Noel’s curious gaze that turned to him. Coach Q was coming in, and he knew their time was up. He pulled his hand away.

“Alright boys, good hustle out there, let's get straight to the issues…”

While the Coach started in on his speech, Frank felt a nudge to his shoulder.

“Pst…”

With his eyes trailing to his right, Frank saw Noel grinning at him like a kid with a gross secret, like when he’d taken a puck to the face two years ago and had texted Frank the gruesome photos of his missing teeth and split mouth immediately. Frank understood to a point, sometimes in hockey his body did weird shit that was equal parts disgusting and equal parts fascinating.

“Wha—” Frank began to whisper, though the way Noel shifted his body had his eyes trailing down familiar, strong lines he was lucky enough to witness in many spaces and avenues.

Noel didn’t need to say a word, all he needed to do was shift the ice over six inches to reveal the black, blue, and purple mass of trauma already forming there at least half the size of Frank’s fist, maybe even Noel’s.

Frank’s mouth fell open a few inches, first in surprise, then in honest horror, his own sensitive areas aching in empathy. He blinked between the gruesome sight and Noel’s little satisfied look, and just shook his head with a mumbled, “ _Jesus_.”

It only took a couple of urgent nudges from Frank to get Noel to put the ice back while Q laid into them and tried to lift up their spirits at the same time to go into their last period, sitting in the face of the possibility of their first regulation loss of the year. Noel was cleared by the medics to return with the team, much to Frank’s relief.

A hand came out to catch the back of Noel’s jersey as the team filed out, holding them back as the last two stragglers.

“What’s wrong?”

Frank’s hands answered Noel’s question, cupping the taller’s cheeks and pulling him in for a sweet, strong kiss. He pressed his lips into those familiar one’s, tilting in for a moment into that faint scar laid there across the edges of one side of Noel’s lips with the same kind of fierce pride that had lit him up before.

“I’d do it again,” Frank smiled a satisfied, warm, Vatrano type of smile that met his eyes.

Noel blinked open his eyes, coming back down from the fire, and smiled a stupid, half toothed hockey smile. “I know. So would I.”

“Everyone knows that, Baby.” Frank patted Noel on the chest before he gloved up and started to hurry off to catch up with the line. “Come on, let's try to get past Greiss while we still can, eh?”

“I don’t think that was Covid protocol, Mr. Vatrano,” Noel sassed while he hustled after him.

Frank laughed out loud.

“You’re in my ‘bubble’, you asshole.”

“That’s a way to put it.”

Frank shook his head. Frank bit his lip and shook his head. Frank bit his lip and shook his head at his incorrigible, ridiculous partner until he was seeing pink.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please leave any respectful thoughts below ^^


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